


Revelation and Retribution

by SophChoph



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Anger, Death, Depression, F/M, Grief, Pre WKM, Realization, Resurrection, Sadness, Suicide, WKM, affair, extreme anger, mark is gonna kill a bitch, mark is one angry boi, mark is sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 20:23:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15565722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophChoph/pseuds/SophChoph
Summary: The night Mark realizes that Celine left him to run off with his best friend William, his whole world flips upside down.





	1. Chapter 1

“No no no no  **GOD DAMN IT NO!”** Mark snarls as he throws a picture against the wall, the glass of the frame shattering just like he already has. The broken man sinks down to the floor, head on his knees while he clings to the wedding band around his finger. “She… s-she said she loved me…. HE TOLD ME HE WAS MY FRIEND!!” There's another snarl as he shoots up from his spot, a crazed fury in his tear filled eyes. There is a loud crack as his fist hits the wall and he cries out in pain. Standing in the doorway now was a nervous looking butler, fidgeting with his sleeves. 

 

“M-Master Iplier, if I may so ask, would you please refrain from harming yourself? I don’t want to see you hurt and-“

 

“Oh  **FUCK** off Benjamin! SCRAM!” Mark snarls at the man now standing in his room. 

 

“Yes master. I just came to inform you that my mother’s become terribly ill, and I’ll be taking a short leave, no more that a week or two. Chef already has everything in order. I wish you the best, and my sincere condolences, I know how much this must hurt” At that, the twitchy butler rushes from the room, carrying a small bag with him. The creaking of the front door can be heard and then he was gone, leaving Mark alone. 

 

The shattered man paces, the sounds coming from him switching between heart wrenching sobs to animalistic snarls like that of a starved and rabid wolf sparratically. He goes back to look at the note that had been left on his nightstand while he slept. 

 

_ “Mark, do know that I have and always will love you dearly, but things just weren’t going well, and my feelings for you had faded greatly. You are a good man Mark, and I loved you, I really did…. but I love him more. I’m sorry you had to find out this way, and I know by the time you read this I’m on my way to Africa with William, but that doesn’t change the fact that part of my heart will always be with you. Have a good life Mark, a good life, just without me in it. With faded love, Celine” _

 

Laying beside the now tear stained note was her golden wedding band. Mark cries out again, this time throwing a glass bottle as hard as he can against the wall, laughing like a madman as it shatters, a crazed sort of laughter that only comes from a person who’s heart and soul looks just like the broken remains of the bottle that now decorated his floor. 

 

Mark snarls as he walks into his bathroom, not caring that he stepped in the pile of glass and was trailing blood behind him with his shredded feet. No, he didn’t care. That pain wasn’t even plausible compared to everything else he was feeling, all the hate and pain and love and anger and sadness, all of it was churning in his gut and making him feel so sick and… he gets sick because of it. Vomiting into the sink. 

 

When the vomit stops he looks up at the mirror panting like a dog. He wipes the stream of bile and saliva from his chin and looks at himself. Red eyes, puffy from sobs, cheeks flushed and stained with tears, hair a wreck, and chin slightly bloodied from where his lip had been chewed through. He was but a shell of his former self, most likely because half of him, the good kind loving half, had been thrown to the wolves, tortured and maimed until it was all but dead. This was not the Mark of yesterday, the one who was kind and caring, no, this was a new man entirely. One filled only with hate, anger, and grief. So. Much. Grief. 

 

”She… she hates me. She always hated me… EVERYONE HATES ME! IM USELESS”

With a flash of revelation and clarity, or so he thought, he realizes that he has nothing in this world to keep him grounded anymore. He marches over to the pool of glass, picking up the largest shard, laughing to himself, and then plunging it into his gut, slashing at the flesh and tearing into viscera before finally collapsing, the shard still in hand and a pool of blood on the floor. His eyes go dark and his chest stops. Mark Iplier was dead. Or was he….. 

 

It’s a few hours later before another sound is heard from the room. A gasp and some groans as the eyes of the dead man open. He looks around, hand instantly going to his gut where he felt the skin fused back together, only evidence of the stabs was one small pink scar where the first incision was. He lets out a pained cry of grief as something cracks inside him, that cry and tears turning to crazed giggling

 

“I-I’m stuck! I can’t go!! It won’t let me go! Oh how RICH!!” He laughs before heading into his drawer to grab his revolver. Today was most definitely going to be a long one. 


	2. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn’t need them. They are useless. They only ever played him and threw him to the wolves. They. need. to. Die.

The floor of the large master suite is coated in a thick layer of blood and reeked of death. It hung thick in the air like a toxic smog, bringing despair and fear into the hearts of anyone who was to make the mistake of entering. The silence is split by an ear splitting, mad sort of laughter as a once great man stands up from the floor for the 26th time that evening, this time with a rope still around his neck. Mark laughs, doubling over. 

 

“Do you see me now Celine?! Do you love me now??? HOW ABOUT YOU WILLIAM,  **WANNA BE FRIENDS NOW?!** ” He screams at a picture in a cracked and bloodstained frame, a picture of Mark smiling brightly with eyes full of hope standing beside his wife Celine at their wedding with his best man William and Damien standing beside Celine after walking her down the aisle. 

 

Mark laughs bitterly before tossing it to the side. A useless memory now. None of them cared. Not really. He was one his own, he always was. Everyone before was lying to him. They just wanted him around so they could hurt him, that was it, none of them had ever cared or wanted him. He was trash.

 

All these thoughts race through Mark’s head as he paces around laughing to himself still. He looks at his window, grinning before shooting it repeatedly and then climbing through it, not caring about the glass shredding his legs. He stands on the ledge, the fourth floor. A very long fall. He howls into the frigid night air before jumping, landing head first on the iron fencing below with a sickening crack of bones and squelch of brains. 

 

Only a few hours later, there was Mark giggling beside the fence. He smiles, getting up and brushing himself off. His clothes were in tatters at this point, blood stained and torn to shreds from the various stabs and cuts and falls. The giggling turns to gross sobs as Mark falls to his knees, clutching his head and pulling at his hair

 

“JUST LET ME DIE DAMN IT!!! I DONT WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE, UNDERSTAND?? LET ME  **DIE** ” He sobs, tears falling down his bloodstained cheeks. He pulls the revolver from his pocket and two loud shots pierce the frigid night air, the sounds of birds stopping as his broken body and shattered mind fall to the crimson stained grass

 

This time, he doesn’t wake up. He finds himself in a place of pure inky blackness. It whispers to him, and the thick air felt like fingers pressed to his skin. Ice cold fingers of the devil. There’s one voice that rules over the other. It’s sound was clear.  _ Maaaaaark, Mark listen to meeeeee, let me in. Let me in. LET me in, LET ME IN LETMEIN _ **_LETMEIN!_ ** The voice was screaming now, and Mark yells right back

 

“ARE YOU GOING TO LET ME DIE THEN? WILL YOU JUST LET ME FUCKING GO?!” He has fallen to his knees on the ground, and soon felt an icy had creep into his shoulder 

 

_ “Mark, you know I can’t do that. You’re too important. You have so much to do for me”  _ the void spoke  _ “you can make them all pay Mark. You can. If you let me help, you can take them all away. You can make them hurt just as much as they’ve made you hurt. You can make William hurt, Celine, Damien, all of them. You can make all the liars hurt, make them pay for what they’ve done to you. They are evil Mark, let me help and we can do this. Together. You stop dying, you send more people to me, you make me powerful, and we can do so so much. I can help you Mark. I can make you whole again, if you just  _ **_listen to me”_ **

 

Mark nods, sniffling. His breathing sped up and soon he jolts up snarling. He didn’t notice the black fading from his vein on his throat where the void had been touching. “I’ll do it!! I want them to pay I want them to hurt I want them to SUFFER!” He feels something ice cold shoot through him and a loud CRACK and he was back again. Standing on his front lawn. He walks into the house and storms up to his room, full of a new determination. A new fury. A new  _ evil. _

 

His mind was broken now. He no longer was Mark Iplier, the most liked man in town, the man who was kind to all and would rather die than hurt a fly, no. That Mark died the moment Celine walked out the door. That Mark shattered and was locked far far away in this new man’s mind, one that was forgotten and padlocked away in layers and layers of chains and locks without any keys. No. This Mark, the one standing here now, was a cold blooded, shattered madman. One who craved blood and revenge. One who wanted retribution for everything that happened. One who was far too broken to fix. One who, soon enough, would become a murderer. 

 

Mark laughs, slamming his door. He changes into new clothes after a shower, cleaning himself up nice. He slicks his hair back with gel like normal, wearing a nice red suit. He always liked to look nice. He smiles at himself in his broken mirror, fixing his collar to cover the rope burn on his throats. Mark winks at the reflection before going to clean up his room and once that was up to ship shape, he takes all of his photos and throws them in a box not caring that the glass was shattering. He locks the box up with chains and a large lock before taking the key and hiding it under a loose tile in the bathroom and then throwing the box into the very back of his closet, hiding it behind everything else in there. He didn’t need them, memories were useless. Memories hurt and memories had  _ them.  _

 

The revolver is slipped under Mark’s belt as he heads downstairs for dinner, a completely new man. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Tell me what ya think in the comments below and if you liked, consider leaving a kudos! Love ya!


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